


Mother's Day

by loyalfangirl



Category: Cookie Clicker, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mother's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:28:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1067163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loyalfangirl/pseuds/loyalfangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is Mother's Day in Night Vale, and a lack of appreciation has led some grandmothers to become displeased...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mother's Day

‘Greetings, listeners! Today, as I’m sure you’re all aware, is Mother’s Day. I hope you’ve all got your flowers, chocolates, cards and associated acts of kindness and gratitude ready to make your mother’s day really special, and to show her how much you love her. Appease her and everything will be just fiiiine. I visited my own mother earlier today, and am pleased to report that I escaped our lovely lunch together with only minor injuries. I wish you all as much luck as I have had this Mother’s Day, especially since Night Vale’s florist and chocolatier both closed earlier in the year, citing rapidly rising commercial rents, the supernatural howls of pain and fury emanating from the butcher down the street, and the fact that it is very difficult to keep flowers from wilting and chocolate from melting in the middle of a desert. And now, a word from our sponsors.’

***

‘Listeners, I have received some…disturbing news about certain events transpiring across Night Vale. It seems that not all mothers have had as enjoyable and peaceful a Mother’s Day as my own, and residents have reported that several older female residents have frozen in the streets and begun to ooze a warm, sugary syrup, bringing them into direct violation of not just one but seven separate directives by the City Council regarding appropriate public conduct, approved activities for senior citizens, and unlawful oozing. But the Sheriff’s Secret Police appear to be reluctant to act, with most officers stating that they are far too busy today pacifying their own mothers today to protect those who have not been so vigilant.

‘Even more concerning are the scattered reports from distressed residents of strange old ladies with terrifying glowing eyes entering homes and forcibly removing baking utensils and infants. I for one am frankly appalled by this behaviour. I’m sure many older Night Vale residents, myself certainly included, look back on various childhood kidnappings by Scout leaders, the Sheriff’s secret policemen and elderly relatives alike as an educational, enjoyable and almost never fatal part of growing up. These modern parents may think that they’re taking care of their children by locking them away from librarians, possibly possessed grandmothers and other potential kidnappers, but really they’re just setting them up for a lifetime of spinelessness, underachievement and delinquency. For shame, parents. For shame.

‘Old Woman Josie, out near the car lot on the edge of town, contacted me earlier with a message from the Angels. Apparently Erika told her that the Grandmatriarch is displeased and that the only hope for the town lies in the Elder Covenant. If anyone has any idea who or what the Grandmatriarch is, please contact the station at your earliest convenience, or simply speak the details of your knowledge aloud. The Sherriff’s Secret Police are always listening. In that event, the City Council would like to remind you that you should have no knowledge of the Tiered Heavens or the Hierarchy of the Angels, and so you should turn yourself in for re-education immediately. Please bring with you any angelic organizational charts that you certainly do not have in your possession, as they do not exist. Angels do not exist, and tell only lies.’

‘Everyone, I have wonderful news. Earlier during this broadcast, a strange portal opened above town and cookies started to rain down. The streets are quickly filling with chocolate chip cookies, and I must say they are absolutely delicious [chewing sounds]. Just like my grandma used to make. I must warn you though-do not eat the golden cookies. They may look extra-tasty but [chewing sounds] all those who have eaten them thus far have been buried under a sudden shower of cookies. There also seem to be [chewing sounds] red cookies, but as far as I know no-one has dared to try one just yet. I went into the men’s bathroom to feed some cookies to Khoshekh and his kittens, but they already had some, along with [chewing sounds] a bowl of what looked like milk, except it was red…and smelled like…raspberries. I also noticed that Khoshekh was wearing a tiny little hard hat. How adorable! Anyway, stay tuned! I will be right back with some more cookies.’

‘So guess who I just got a call from! That’s right! Beautiful, perfect Carlos just called to say that, as always, he was running some tests on this strange new phenomenon and had come across some disturbing results. Isn’t he the cutest? “Cecil,” He said in his perfect baritone voice, “I’ve performed a primary analysis on these cookies that keep falling from the sky.” He then paused for a few seconds, and I could hear very loud chewing noises. “They may look like delicious cookies, and taste like delicious cookies, but they don’t actually exist! They’re just pixels!” He continued, talking with his mouth full. “Obviously I need to perform more tests, but please, let everyone know to stay inside and away from the cookies and the portals. I have a feeling that this is about to get much worse.” He was then drowned out by a whirring noise, followed by a loud humming that steadily increased in pitch and then a booming thunderclap that echoed across the sky. “Looks like another portal has opened up, they just keep coming.” He muttered distractedly. “Look, Cecil, I’ll talk to you later, I have to call my mother, despite all that’s happening it’s Mother’s Day after all. But please, take care of yourself, and the town. I’m counting on you.” Well, you heard Carlos, listeners. If you value your lives, stay inside, and away from all the delicious, delicious cookies. [chewing sounds]. And now, the weather.’

***

‘Well folks, it seems like the events of this Mother’s Day, which some younger residents have dubbed ‘Grandmapocalypse’, have drawn to a close almost as soon as they begun. The portals have abruptly closed and millions of adorable kittens, many of whom are wearing hard hats and suits and some of whom appear to be from an entirely different universe, are quickly eating up all the cookies that litter our streets. Grandmas everywhere have returned to their houses and nursing homes, and have restricted their oozing, kidnapping, baking and speaking in tongues to within City Council-approved guidelines. 

‘On an unrelated note, our internet connection here at the studio has unexpectedly failed, and none of us are able to access any websites. I called our internet service provider and he, like many tradesmen undoubtedly will in the coming days, blamed the unexpected and massive weight of the cookie deluge on phone lines, and said it would be at least two weeks before our connection was restored. At least that’s what he said according to my Compendium of Long-Dead and Demonic Tongues, which I haven’t had occasion to consult since high school thanks to Google Translate. It really takes me back. For some reason, the news seemed to enrage Station Management, who had not emerged from their office for more than a week, and had not made a sound apart from constant frenzied clicking. They are now roaming the station and roaring with rage. I pray they do not find me, or any of our lovely new interns.

‘Night Vale, just before I go, I think that we should use today as a reminder that while grandmothers are lovely, kindly, virtuous ladies, we must remember never to take them for granted and to regularly acknowledge all they do for us. Gratitude is by far the best way to avoid the wrath of powerful supernatural beings with abilities far beyond our comprehension. Be thankful for today, and all that we have learned, and all that we will no longer seek to learn. Be thankful for the fragile life that your mother has given to you, if indeed that is your family’s biological persuasion. And please, for your own sake, prepare yourselves for Father’s Day. Good night, Night Vale. Goodnight.’


End file.
